


for the love of family

by caesarions



Category: The Dragon Prince (Cartoon)
Genre: Babies, Developing Relationship, F/M, Family Fluff, Father-Daughter Relationship, M/M, Parent-Child Relationship, Pre-Canon, Toddlers, Tooth-Rotting Fluff
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-12-30
Updated: 2019-12-30
Packaged: 2021-02-27 14:48:25
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,778
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22028824
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/caesarions/pseuds/caesarions
Summary: Runaan, as with all things personal and intimate, has no idea what to do with ababy. Still, he and Ethari would do anything for their friends. Years of increasingly babysitting Rayla leads to a lifetime commitment that finds Runaan happier than he ever could have hoped.
Relationships: Lain/Tiadrin (The Dragon Prince), Runaan/Ethari (The Dragon Prince), Runaan/Tinker | Necklace Elf (The Dragon Prince)
Comments: 9
Kudos: 107





	for the love of family

“I figured I’d find both of you here!” 

After throwing open the smithy doors, Lain leaned an elbow on the wall. 

Runaan, perched on the tabletop next to Ethari, narrowed his eyes at the burden of being known. “And just what is that supposed to mean?”

“Relax, it’s been moons,” Lain waved his free arm in a flippant motion. “I’m here to ask for help.”

Ethari looked up from his current project, sketching a combined bowblade, to smile at their old friend. “Did you confuse your daggers and the kitchen knives again, Lain?”

“Help from both of you, so it’s nothin’ like that.” Leaning in conspiratorially, Lain continued, “I’m gonna surprise Tia.”

“She dislikes surprises, as well as that name,” Runaan reminded him, eyebrow raised.

“She’s not here to yell at me,” Lain rounded the table to poke Runaan in the chest, “but she wouldn’t for this, anyway. We haven’t been on a date in moons, either, but I think baby Ray is finally old enough to spend a few hours without us. Would you sacrifice one of your date nights for ours?”

Ethari dropped his charcoal to clap his hands. When he turned to Runaan, his eyes sparkled. “I would be delighted to take care of Rayla! Wouldn’t you, love?”

“Uh…” Runaan pressed back against the wall. “I believe so?”

“Never had any doubts!” Clasping both of them on the shoulder, Lain gave a brilliant smile. “Just come to our quarters at sundown.”

“Speaking of, isn’t Tiadrin technically alone with Rayla right now?” Ethari tapped Lain’s knuckles with a well-meaning smirk.

He laughed. “Yeah, I’ll be rightin’ that right now. Ha. See ya guys tonight!” 

After waving Lain out of the workshop, Runaan lowered his hand until he could curl it into a fist on his chest. A waterfall of white hair fell as he leaned forward, closer to Ethari. He whispered, “And just what in blue moons are you supposed to do with a baby?”

“Something is wrong.”

After checking the nursery for a neurotic eighth time, Runaan returned to Lain and Tiadrin’s drawing room. Since the four of them often used it as their common space to drink and laugh after a long day of sparring, sitting there in silence made the assassin shift on his feet even now. Hopefully, their date was worth it.

Glancing up from his reading nook by the crackling fireplace, Ethari said, “Oh? I hear no crying now.”

“Exactly,” Runaan continued his fervent whisper. “The baby—it is asleep. It has _been_ asleep since they departed.”

“Rayla is a wee one, my dear heart.” Laughter bubbled its way through the smith’s voice. “You’d much prefer she sleeps most of the day away, for both her health and ours.”

“How will she accomplish anything at this rate?” He folded his arms.

Ethari closed his book on weapon enchantments and set it on his lap, his expression one of fond bewilderment. “What d’you want a baby to be working on?”

“...Learning?”

Under Ethari’s silent judgment, Runaan stalked over and sat, melting into Ethari’s shoulder on the cushions.

“You’re not entirely wrong. A baby is taking in everything little thing right now,” Ethari nursed his bruised ego, simultaneously running a hand along the back of Runaan’s hair. Then, he tapped the other’s temple. “A surprising amount goes on up here. How about you?”

That tore a chuckle from Runaan’s throat, which only increased over time. “Hey. I am… willing to learn, in this. Just, I am an only child.”

“Hi, only child, I’m—”

Runaan jabbed a finger into Ethari’s lips. “No.”

“I’m practicing,” the other elf managed to get out. Runaan looked on in odd surprise before he felt a chuckle building. They laughed together wildly until another sound poked through their happy membrane—an unhappy little cry, floating high and sharp enough to fill the entire shelter. Ethari pushed Runaan’s hand aside with an apologetic squeeze. “Speaking of.”

Runaan kept their fingers intertwined as they trudged to the nursery once more. He grimaced and tiptoed at the doorway, fearing the worst, before being forcefully tugged into the room. Rayla merely cried in her crib, writhing in the lilac blankets and her tiny hands reaching for something unseen. 

“Is that a normal amount?” he whispered again.

“Of emotion?” Ethari smirked back at him. He stroked Runaan’s knuckles before releasing him to scoop Rayla up in his arms. “Yes, she’s fine and dandy. I reckon she’s just hungry. We should still calm her first, though.”

Well, it was nice of him to at least try to include Runaan. Runaan himself leaned on the crib and watched with wide eyes. Working his magic, Ethari nuzzled baby Rayla close to his chest and swayed in time while humming a Silvergrove folk song. As she calmed over time, Rayla’s glassy expression almost mirrored Runaan’s. 

Eventually, Ethari murmured in that soft brogue of his, “I should get the moonberries ready.”

“That means—” Runaan blanched. 

“Oh, you can do it,” he promised with a sunny disposition. Ethari stepped closer, and Runaan held his arms out like wilting stems before him, as useless as they had ever been. Rayla babbled as soon as she touched him, and Runaan froze in abject terror. He gripped her, arms and mind hovering back and forth at a breakneck pace between holding her afar for fear of crushing her, or holding her close for fear of dropping her.

Watching the grief play out on his love’s face with sweat broken anew, Ethari grinned and instructed, “Hold her next to your heart, if you would. Act comfortable, like she’s an extension of you, like your blade.”

Runaan squinted at him for a second before turning right back to Rayla. “A low blow.” But an accurate one. He felt a concern that his white-hot panic would bleed into the baby and undo all of Ethari’s hard work. Doing as told, Runaan freed himself of a last shaking breath and hoped the mess in his chest was not too loud as to bother her. 

“That’s it, yes! That’s even most of the work, since we don’t need her to be falling asleep again just yet.”

Runaan gave a jerky nod without moving the rest of his body.

After kissing his cheek, Ethari disappeared somewhere, probably into the kitchens, but Runaan kept his eyes down until they threatened to strain. His lips pressed wan, he swayed out of nerves more than anything, as he had no cute nursery rhymes to offer. 

Rayla did not seem to mind, as she stared back up at Runaan with equal intensity. Periodically breaking into half-giggles, Runaan attempted a weak smile in return, in case she was attempting a baby joke. 

Eventually, she reached up with her hands again, squealing in either delight or some other sort of demand. Out of a morbid curiosity, Runaan shifted, balancing her in the crook of one arm to hover an inquisitive finger around her face. Rayla huffed and stumbled in the air before gently grabbing at Runaan, both hands attempting to encircle the one finger. Runaan audibly gasped before biting his cheek.

“Is everything alright in there?”

Glancing to the door, there Ethari peeked in, working the mortar and pestle. 

“...I’m fine.” Runaan’s eyes fell to Rayla. “She is fine.”

She moved to stick Runaan’s finger in her mouth and almost began to bite at it.

He sighed. “Mostly.”

“...Love?”

He looked up from where Rayla played on the workshop floor beside him. Having returned from a recent mission, it was his job to distract her while Ethari caught up on orders. At this age, Rayla had recently taken it as a challenge to climb every surface that she could find. “Yes?”

The tools in Ethari’s hands clanged as he dropped them to the table, mouth hung open as well. “Please tell me she isn’t holding what I think she’s holding.” 

“What, my dagger?” Runaan shrugged and continued to watch Rayla grip it by the butt and rotate between sticking the blade into the stone and slashing it in the air.

“No, a doll—yes, the _knife_ , Runaan!” Ethari’s raised voice made Rayla finally realize that he was back. With a grin, she teetered to her feet and darted forward for a hug, knife still brandished in front of her. Ethari jumped before gently lifting her by the shoulders to sit on the table. 

“Okay, okay, okay!” he chuckled nervously, keeping her in place. “Can I have that, pretty please?”

“No!” Rayla crossed her arms with the knife still in one hand.

Ethari’s smile stretched thin as he muttered, “And why not? You have so many beautiful toys for a reason!”

“She was looking at it,” Runaan offered by way of explanation. “I presume she just likes the shine. Or the swing of it.” 

“A stick would serve just as well,” Ethari huffed. He inched his hand forward, reluctant to lose any fingers, as Rayla still turned away from him with angry toddler noises. 

Pointing, Runaan raised his eyebrows.

“No, that is _not_ an idea,” the tinker was able to counter without even looking at him. He moved to the other side of the table, closer to Rayla. “She’s still liable to poke her eye out.” 

Rubbing his chin, Runaan mused, “I believe I can alleviate that.”

Rising gracefully to his feet, Runaan tiptoed around all of the wooden building blocks and other toys in this corner of the room. Approaching them from behind, he persuaded Ethari to give up the one-sided tug of war by placing an arm about his shoulders. “Rayla, will you return my dagger if we go on an adventure?”

A gleeful grin split her face. “Aye!”

“We will get out of your hair,” Runaan promised, leaning in to kiss Ethari’s cheek. Using his free hand, he safely took the blade back from Rayla and returned it to its sheath. 

Ethari chuckled and fondly patted the other hand on his shoulder. “If I still have hair, that is.” 

“I will also make dinner tonight,” Runaan added, batting his eyelashes. He disentangled himself to pick Rayla up from the table, and she squealed in delight as always. As she wrapped her arms around Runaan’s neck, Ethari set to work, and they all said their goodbyes.

He carried her down the stairs to the main square, where Rayla wanted to run past the pond with one hand in the water. Runaan always watched carefully, despite what one might think, so he stood still when quite obviously perfected her aim for a splash. 

At the droplets on his clothing, Runaan gave an artificial gasp. “You got me!”

Rayla crouched behind one of the larger rocks. Even if she was trying to hide, her bubbly laughter gave her away to everyone in the immediate area, even the birds above. “Mad like ‘thari?”

“No, for I can do this.” Runaan lifted her into his arms again. He found it much easier at this stage, not as concerned about squeezing Rayla or dropping her on her squishy head. He scooped in the water to splash both of them, and Rayla shrieked and pushed herself away by slapping his cheek.

Chuckling, Runaan stood up again. “Ethari can never be truly angry, either. In fact, I am almost certain that I played with knives as a child.” 

“When?” Rayla asked, a knowing look on her face.

“Not that long ago. I am not _that_ old.” the assassin huffed. He shifted Rayla’s weight as he headed for the outskirts of Silvergrove. “Do I look the part? Don't answer that question.” 

Around the entrance, they searched for the perfect sticks, which Rayla considered to be the largest one she could find. Then, they sat in a soft pile of leaves as Runaan attempted his first arts and crafts project. He used his dagger to shave off the bark and extra branches and attempt to make the ends as smooth and child-friendly as possible. Ethari most likely had a specific tool for this, but Runaan hardly understood anything in the workshop. Although, perhaps he had a place there after this.

He handed the finished project to Rayla. “Well? What do you think?” 

“Good!” she declared confidently, tossing the stick a few times and pointing it at Runaan. Then, using all her strength, she broke the stick in half. “Now, two of them!”

Runaan blinked in shock before sighing, but he was taking notes. 

“Not that I’m not impressed, but”—he moved in to still her wrists as Ethari had done—“now I have to smooth them out again!” 

“ _En garde_!”

“And just what does that mean?”

They had graduated to tiny wooden swords that Ethari had specially made, going back and forth in a forest clearing close enough to the entrance of Silvergrove. The entrance path they had used and a line of trees melted into a plain of magical, emerald grasses. 

“Don’t really know,” Rayla shrugged, trying to push Runaan back. He stood bent over to her level and holding his sword straight for her to swing at. His back ached, and he worried Ethari by waking up with it stuck in that painful position one night. Whenever Rayla hit hard enough or used proper technique, he gave her ground. “In the storybook they read us, the Sunfire Elf said it before a fight.”

Humming thoughtfully, Runaan asked, “And how is your schooling going?”

“Boring!” She tried to spin around and hit him with a flourish, but missed. Rayla only laughed at herself before lunging sideways to attempt a different move. 

Runaan poked her nose with the (very!) blunt sword tip. “Is that all you’ll share with me?”

“History is _bo_ -ring,” Rayla singsonged, scowling and pushing his sword away with her hand. “I like it when we play outside.”

“If that were made of metal, you would be bleeding.” Smiling, he returned to a defensive position. “And the other children?” 

“They’re jealous of me!” Rayla jumped forward and tested his strength. 

He allowed her to push his sword closer to his chest and looked past the battling blades to ask, “Oh?”

“I told 'em I’ve got three dads,” the girl nodded confidently. “They think the more dads, the more they can do.”

Runaan made an odd expression, scrunching his brows. Finally, he dropped the farce and pushed her back. Rayla groaned as she stumbled, although she stayed standing by throwing her arms out. 

“Oh, sorry. Keep your balance!” When Rayla pouted, Runaan only motioned for her to come on, though still lost in thought himself. “...And what do you think of that?”

Rayla pointed the sword at him with an audible sweep. “I think my mum can take you all.” 

As a laugh tore from his throat, Rayla yelled and sprung forward. She traded more determined blows than ever, even as the grass closer to the center grew taller and made it harder for them to move quickly.

“She’s correct.”

Tiadrin’s surprise voice came exactly as something hidden in the grass, most likely a log, rolled under his last step. With an undignified yelp, Runaan collapsed onto his back, his fall only softened by the dense plants and… chirping…? 

“Runaan!” 

Rayla’s face blocked the sky, and the concern widening her eyes quickly melted into something else. She leaned back out of view with her lips pressed tightly, laughter still buzzing out of them. 

“Ethari said that I could find you two out here,” Tiadrin continued. Of course Dragonguard training had to include stealth.

When Runaan sat up, he watched an array of emotions from shock to pleasure play out on Tiadrin’s features. Finally, she turned red as she tried to hold it in as her daughter had, but she broke into bellowing laughter, holding her stomach and eventually wiping at her eyes.

Grimacing, Runaan plucked out one of the many adoraburrs currently coating his hair. “Ah. I can’t wait to never, ever live this down in our entire lives.” 

“Ya know the next event that’ll attract this many folks.” 

After glancing at the gathered crowds and streamers hung with magic like the aurora in the square, Runaan gave the moonberry surprise vendor an icy glare. She was one of Silvergrove’s most expert gossipmongers, selling information as well as dessert. 

He huffed, “And why is it my responsibility to propose?” 

“Well, ya gave the first gift,” she replied easily, wrinkles deepening with mirth.

The assassin snorted. “You are far too old to remember something like that.”

“Maybe so.” Laughing, the old woman pushed his order forward. “When’s it gonna be? I wanna be first with the news.” 

“Soon enough. I would not interrupt Lain and Tiadrin’s celebration.” Runaan flushed.

“Aye, ‘course not.” She gave a mysterious grin as Runaan balanced the two moonberry surprises. “Moon and heart guide you, wee one.” 

Runaan nodded solemnly and began to carry his treats back, weaving his way through the crowded square, the most domestic use of his assassin skills. 

The only delay had been himself, importing materials and learning metalworking without Ethari finding out at all. That meant that there were piles of rejected gemstones and dented coils carefully discarded in his assassin gear. Rayla had discovered him in Ethari’s smithy one night when she was too energetic for sleep, but luckily, she had proved quite adept at keeping secrets. 

She even picked the final gem design, a simple teal stone which Runaan readily agreed burnished the warm, liquid gold in Ethari’s eyes. 

The same eyes smiled up at him as Runaan stood next to where Ethari bounced Rayla on his knee on the ground. Lain had lead them to a position in the very front with an embarrassing amount of fanfare before he disappeared to prepare for the knighting ceremony. 

Over Rayla’s squeals, Ethari greeted, “Thanks so much, Runaan! You decided on two, I see?” 

“Whether she could eat a whole surprise or not escaped me,” Runaan shrugged before he sat cross-legged beside them and handed one to Ethari. 

Rayla’s entire face pulled into a forceful pout. The two men had done her hair in a fancier full braid for the occasion. “I can, and I will!” 

“Okay, heart.” Chuckling, Runaan only had a bite himself before handing the dessert to Rayla. “You may have the majority of mine.” 

“Do you think she would pass her recipe onto me?” Ethari mused while eating his own.

Runaan raised his eyebrows with a smirk. “I just may be able to bargain.” 

Squinting inquisitively at him, Runaan only wiped at her mouth, covered in surprise already. 

While they waited for the ceremony to begin, Rayla couldn’t decide whose lap to sit on, jumping back and forth. Eventually, the live music died down, and the current Dragonguard ascended the gazebo. Everyone in the crowd stood out of respect, and Rayla settled for perching on Runaan’s shoulders to get a better view. 

There were three guardsmen, all different kinds of elves, but united in the fact that they were dressed in the traditional raiments with their symbol emblazoned on the front. Stepping forward, the center Skywing elf began regaling the history of Avizandum and Zubeia’s reign. He ended with a grand motion forward, and Lain and Tiadrin appeared in the center row. 

Walking in time to music that had started anew, the parents wore the same chainmail fitted for them and held hands. It was the best Lain would ever look, with every little thing about his appearance wrangled into place. Tiadrin’s face was as still as the night sky, but when her gaze drifted to Ethari and Runaan, her eyes sparkled.

On the stone stage, the two retiring Dragonguards stepped forward and asked Rayla’s parents to repeat their vows. When they finished and knelt, the guards tapped their weapons on the Moonshadow Elves’ shoulders. 

Their leader spoke. “Rise.”

Silvergrove broke into thunderous applause, perhaps half of which came from Runaan, Ethari, and Rayla. He jumped before remembering the child on his shoulders, and Rayla’s cheers faltered for a moment as she pulled on Runaan’s hair with one hand to stay on. He exaggerated his hurt with a groan and a wince.

“Is this what I get for savin’ you a bite?” Rayla jested, sharp enough to hear over the continuous applause. She handed the container back to him, where he found crumbs. 

“Very funny!” Runaan pinched her cheek. “Is this the respect that you show your parents?”

Rayla stared at him. “Yes.” 

“Lain.”

They had dropped their weapons off for an Ethari-grade final inspection that same night. As their departure grew ever nearer, they returned with not-so-baby Rayla in tow. Ethari had stopped working on Runaan’s bowblade to entertain her in his lap and laugh with Lain. At his wife’s voice, he waved them all over to where Runaan leaned against the smithy wall.

She directed her level gaze at Runaan when they were gathered in a circle. “You know what it is we must ask you to do.”

Runaan nodded.

“We know you have big jobs of your own,” Lain prefaced, his hand resting on Rayla’s head. “We’re not askin’ you to give them up.”

Ethari nodded for him to continue.

“And we’ll be back sometimes,” he promised, “or a lot of the times, ‘specially if our very best friends are gettin' married.” 

Although he flushed sheepishly, Runaan did not bite back. He glanced up at Ethari through his lashes, watching Ethari’s bright smile and the jewel in his horn guards dance with the fire’s forge.

“It is no easy feat, but we trust you wholeheartedly,” Tiadrin said, forceful with the weight of her belief. She gifted the pair with one of her secret smiles, which was a reward all its own. “More importantly, you trust yourself.” 

Runaan grinned. 

“And we already explained the whole thing to her,” Lain concluded. 

After a shaky sigh, Runaan moved forward to kneel in front of Rayla. He reached out a hand towards her, and Rayla rushed forward into a hug. “We would be honored to raise Rayla in your absence.” He turned his wet eyes to Ethari. “Wouldn’t we, my love?”

Ethari almost crumpled to his knees

“More than honored!” Ethari gathered them in a bone-shattering hug, even lifting Rayla off of the floor so he could kiss both of their heads. “We’re so grateful.”

“Some things first! I wanna be in the wedding for keeping your secret”—she grabbed at Runaan’s hair, although thankfully, did not pull this time—“and does this mean I get Ethari’s moonberry surprise everyday?”

The circle of friends laughed heartily. Runaan did not have the time to find the appropriate response, but Ethari said, “Family can mean whatever you need it to, my dear.”

**Author's Note:**

> i hope you enjoyed! i know i enjoyed playing with the idea of these old friends and their little family. if so, kudos and comments are always appreciated :-)


End file.
